


Saturn Vs. Time

by theagentshade



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anger At Time, Clocks, Crack, Gender Ambiguous Character, This was written as a joke don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagentshade/pseuds/theagentshade
Summary: What happens when a gender ambiguous 20-year-old has a vendetta against time? They take it out on a poor innocent clock, of course.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Saturn Vs. Time

Time.

Such an interesting, abstract, yet frustrating concept that people have become obliged to live by. A social construct, yet an existing concept dictated by the spinning of the earth and the rising of the sun, dictated even further by clocks.

While clocks dictate the passing of time on a small scale, clocks are not inherently harmful. They are not in control of, nor can they manipulate, time; all they do is provide information showing what everyone has agreed the time is. Regardless, more often than not, they get the blame if time is not working in an individual’s favor, as if the clock is the one responsible for time passing, rather than merely displaying what the time happens to be.

Saturn, a 20-year-old gender ambiguous artist, happens to be one of these individuals. They find themselves glaring at their clock, displaying 4:30 in the afternoon, after having gotten very little art done that day and wondering where the time went. 

A part of them wanted to ask their clock that question; specifically, they wanted to grab their clock with both hands, shake it vigorously, and screech, “WHAT DID YOU DO WITH TODAY?” They knew doing this would be futile, as their clock did not have the ability to answer his question, nor hear or comprehend it.

Instead, they continued to glare at it, watching the second hand move past all the second-measuring ticks with precise, almost uncomfortable precision. The hour and minute hands glared at them back with condescension, remaining perfectly still until the second hand pushed them further. When this happened, the hour and minute hands moved so little, yet so quickly, Saturn would blink and miss it. 

Saturn was also aware that their glaring was not helping their case. Glaring at their clock was not going to make it suddenly start going backwards, or freeze at 4:30 for long enough for them to make up for their lack of productivity. The time was only going to be 4:30 for 60 seconds; no more, no less. By now, it was reaching the end of 4:30, only having 5 seconds remaining. Saturn watched the second hand tick by those final 5 seconds.

Then, just like that, it was 4:31.

Saturn wasn’t sure why, but something about watching the minute hand go from 4:30 to 4:31 was agonizingly _infuriating_. Nothing they could do could make the clock stop ticking, the day stop passing, the earth halt spinning, the sun stop shining. Their only options were to either control their time or let their time control them, and to Saturn, neither of those options seemed good.

As Saturn’s infuriated thoughts piled on top of each other, an idea appeared amongst the pile. That was when they had an epiphany. 

Saturn may not be able to control the day’s passing, the earth’s spinning, or the sun’s shining. But they _could_ control their clock’s ticking.

As the second hand was about to reach the 12 once again, Saturn couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want the second hand to pass that 12, and it didn’t have to.

Without a second thought, Saturn clenched their fist, drew their arm back, and punched the clock square in its face. 

As soon as their fist hit the glass, Saturn felt a wave of relief. Their frustration had been released with their punch, and for a fleeting moment, they felt satisfied, having reclaimed the power that they believed this godforsaken machine had taken from them.

If only that moment hadn’t been fleeting.

Within seconds, pain emerged from Saturn’s knuckles, shooting up to the rest of their hand. The pain was severe enough that Saturn screamed, instantly drawing their arm back.   
Uncurling their first, Saturn inspected their hand. Their knuckles had turned deep red, and with the amount of pain they were in, would likely bruise. Saturn sighed before they dared themselves to look up and face their clock.

As soon as they did, Saturn became even more infuriated than before. 

All their punch had accomplished was put a crack in the glass between the 12 and the center of the clock. Aside from that, all of the hands continued to move, unfazed by Saturn’s outburst, their condescending figurative glare ever so present.

Saturn was jolted out of their thoughts when the door to their room opened. They quickly hid their hand behind their thigh as they turned to the door. Their father was peeking his head in, his brow raised.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. “I thought I heard you scream.”

Saturn knew denying that they had screamed would sound more suspicious. They decided to admit to their scream, but made up an excuse as for why they had on the fly.

“Um. . .yeah, I did. I just saw a really strange meme. Nothing to worry about.” Saturn’s facial muscles strained as they tried to hide an uncomfortable smile that would give away their lie. 

They must have hid it well, because their father’s brow came down. "Oh, okay. Just checking up on you.” Their father walked away, leaving the door midway open.

Saturn sighed in relief. They lifted their hand to look at it again; it was slowly but surely starting to bruise. They made a mental note to snatch an ice pack from the freezer when their parents weren’t looking.

They then returned their gaze to the clock, which continued to tick as if nothing happened.

“Fuck you, you stupid clock.”


End file.
